


Christmas Wishes

by seri-kun (vanijane)



Series: The Brave Snake (Gryffindor Draco AU) [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Molly, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Chess as a Pureblood tradition, Draco & Ron bond over chess, Friendship, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, M/M, Pre-Relationship, So does Neville but he's not very good at it, Weasley Jumpers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:50:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanijane/pseuds/seri-kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Weasley will always be the best mother for every child in need.<br/>
<br/>
<i>“I think this is the best Christmas I’ve had though.”</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>Harry grinned, “that makes two of us now.”</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>“And it’s all thanks to those Weasleys,” Draco rolled his eyes and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, “woe is me!”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> Also on [**tumblr**](http://psychofluffy.tumblr.com/post/149074901734/fic-christmas-wishes-harry-potter-drarry). Based on [**this**](http://psychofluffy.tumblr.com/post/148832222844/i-am-tempted-to-write-in-the-verse-but-the).

“You’re not going home for the holidays?”

Draco lifted his head up from his Charms book and met Harry’s eyes as he approached him. There was surprise overlaying the confusion on his face.

“No, my parents – they’re busy and it was better for me to stay here for the holidays,” Draco lied smoothly but he felt uneasy.

He hadn’t properly talked about his familial circumstances with any of his friends yet but Hermione sort of knew about it when she’d read the letter and he was sure she was already able to piece out the whole story on her own. Ron never asked questions but Draco knew that Ron had figured it out for himself, too. Their families went way back on opposite sides of everything but it was thanks to that troubled history that Ron knew why Draco never talked about his parents or home. Then there was Harry who didn’t know anything beyond the usual family troubles, he certain Harry wouldn’t really understand and Draco wasn’t even sure why hadn’t told Harry about it, either.

“Oh – so that leaves the three of us here then,” Harry shrugged and took the space beside him on the sofa. He peered over Draco’s shoulder and scrunched his nose, “it’s the holidays, why are you reading advanced charms?”

“Unlike you, Scarhead, I take my studies seriously,” Draco teased but closed his book anyway. “So, why are you bothering me and not dragging Ron all over the castle like you always do?”

Harry groaned, “don’t say his name – it’s like a curse, he appears when you say his name and I’m _tired_ of playing chess with him.”

Draco grinned at his friend’s misery, “well, it’s family tradition, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Chess – most pureblood sons are required to at least know how to play the game. Though there are very few who still enjoy playing it, many just learn it out of tradition and don’t really practice.”

“Well, I’m very bad at it but Ron doesn’t mind – he just wants to keep playing.”

Draco hummed and sat straighter, “I guess I could show him a thing or two. I don’t mean to brag –”

Harry snorted but Draco easily ignored him.

“– but I’m a fairly capable player.” He finished with a smirk.

“ _Please,_ be my guest.”

Draco laughed and opened his book as Harry made himself comfortable beside him. True to his word, a few minutes later Ron entered the common room carrying a chessboard around one arm followed by Seamus, Dean and Neville.

“Beat me again!” Seamus complained but got no sympathy from any of his companions.

“I’ve never been good with chess either,” Neville sighed as he scampered towards the empty armchair close to Draco and Harry. “My Great Uncle Algie kept playing with me to make me get better – it never worked.”

“That’s because you’re scared of everything, Neville,” Draco sneered playfully and earned a jab from Harry. “It’s true – the secret to chess is to not be scared of your opponent.”

Ron grunted, “a game then, if you’re so sure of yourself.”

“Oh, you’re going to regret it, Weasley,” Draco grinned and closed his book.

Both he and Ron settled on the floor, the chess board in between them and chess pieces arranging themselves. The other boys circled around them in rapt attention and every time a piece was taken out, Seamus would cheer loudly at the brutality.

Ever since Halloween and the incident with the troll, Draco was able to open himself up with the other students in their year. He still got annoyed at how Parvati and Lavender always seemed to be squealing and giggling but the boys were fine. Neville was a bit harder to adjust to though, since he seem to shake for the most littlest of things and it took a lot of elbow jabs from Harry and Hermione for him to be on friendly terms with Neville. It also helped that while he was often times scared, Neville was also a friendly and sincere guy – and like Ron and himself, Neville was a pureblood. Even without speaking with Draco, he knew what was going on.

The Slytherins, most especially Pansy with the aide of Vincent and Gregory, were still playing pranks on him and calling him names whenever he was around but he wasn’t alone now. Ron, Harry and Hermione were quick to jump to into fray and defend his ‘honour’. As absurd as it sounded (and Pansy made sure to call him a damsel in distress several times to prove the point), Draco was touched at their care and support.

His weekly talks with Professor McGonagall after dinner also lessened recently as he found himself hanging out with his friends and housemates. The professor didn’t mind, she actually encouraged it and when Draco told her that he was going to meet his friends, she beamed and quickly shooed him away.

That was at least one teacher on his side, so to speak. It seemed that ever since Halloween, his relationship with his godfather worsened from ignorance to obvious hatred. Draco noticed how Severus was unfairly biased against anyone who wasn’t a Slytherin and gave both Harry and Neville the worst preferential treatment. Draco recently joined their little group of Severus’ most hated students and until the first Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Slytherin (the tension was extremely high that day), he wasn’t sure whom Severus hated the most: Neville or Harry – but after Hermoine caught him jinxing Harry’s broomstick, it was obviously Harry.

Then there was that mystery on the third floor corridor – the forbidden one that they weren’t supposed to ever enter but his friends _had_ and even met a large three-headed dog who Hagrid apparently called _Fluffy_. His friends were convinced that it had something to do with the break-in at Gringotts several months ago and whatever was inside vault 713. Hagrid wasn’t very careful with his words, it was easy to get him to slip and spill something, so now they had to find whoever Nicholas Flamel was and whatever contribution he gave to the wizarding world.

Draco didn’t have much time to dwell on his situation ever since Halloween but it wasn’t bad, it was exciting and just like the what he imagined school to be like but with more excitement (especially with this mystery going on).

“That’s totally barbaric,” Draco lifted his head at the voice and saw Hermione frowning at their chess board where his queen chess piece swatted one of Ron’s knight chess pieces.

Ron grinned at her, “it’s wizard’s chess – and Malfoy’s better than any of you lot.”

“Thank goodness,” Harry cheered from the sofa and Draco snickered.

He liked chess but never found anyone to play with him. Even at the Manor, he often played with Mother but she always let him win. He used to play with Theo a lot but they weren’t friends now – Ron was better than Theo though, and that wasn’t a biased opinion at all.

“I’m free to do whatever I want over the holidays,” Harry added with more cheer as he switched his position on the sofa and leaned over Draco’s shoulder to watch the match.

“I hope none of you would forget to do your homework amongst other things,” Hermione reminded sharply and Draco knew she wasn’t just talking about school work. She was going to have them probe through every nook and cranny of the library for Nicholas Flamel.

Ron let out a grunt and rolled his eyes but made sure only do it with his head bent down so that Hermione couldn’t see. Draco kept his face neutral but Harry let out a chuckle.

“I’ll make sure they won’t fail the term, Granger,” Draco promised then gave one more command to his chess pieces. He watched with a smirk as his queen cornered Ron’s king. “I think that’s a check, mate.”

“Oh very funny,” Ron grumbled as the boys cheered. “One more round, Malfoy.”

“And it begins,” Seamus teased ominously as the chess pieces arranged themselves.

* * *

Harry, Ron and Draco were in the Great Hall when most of the students were leaving to spend the holidays at home. Ron and his brothers stayed after his parents made last minute plans to visit one of his older brothers for the holidays, so it turned out that all three boys were staying to do Hermione’s bidding.

“Neither of you have gotten bored of that game yet?” Hermione asked as she approached them with a large bag on wheels.

“They’re on a constant tie,” Harry explained as he munched on a treacle tart. “The winner is anyone who has a two game lead.”

Hermione shook her head and leaned over on the table, her voice in a low whisper as she said, “don’t forget to check the library for Nicholas Flamel.”

“We’ve searched a hundred times, ‘Mione,” Ron whined, shooting her an annoyed look.

“Not in the restricted section,” all three heads turned to her in shock at her suggestion. She leaned back with a smile, “happy Christmas.”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Ron turned back to his friends and said what they were all thing, “I think we’re a bad influence on her.”

“The _both of you_ , I was dragged into this as much as she was,” Draco pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’d do it anyway. Hermione wouldn’t have done anything against the rules.”

“That’s not my fault, is it? Now we’ve to find a way to get into the restricted section.”

“You can’t claim to be a victim, Malfoy. You’re into this more than we are.”

Draco grinned.

* * *

As soon as the holidays began however, neither of the boys had given any time to venture into the restricted section unless it was at night but Filch and Mrs Norris were at every corner. And it was a lot more fun to play chess all day or play in the snow and take turns on Harry’s broomstick. They weren’t allowed to fly too far or for too long but it was still fun.

Though as Christmas drew closer and the Weasleys were in good cheer, Draco didn’t feel up for the festivities. He admitted that it was the first time he had so much fun during the holidays as it was a strict and formal affair at the Manor and often filled with parties. But Christmas morning was different, that was the time for presents and hot chocolate with marshmallows. His parents always got him the best of presents and so did all his other friends and their parents but he knew that he’d have an empty tree this year and perhaps for the rest of his life. And even if he had any gifts, he was certain it would contain hexes or curses.

“Not a Christmas person?” Harry asked as he entered the dormitory where Draco was sitting by the window and reading his Herbology book.

Draco turned to him, closing his book with a shrug, “you could say that – and you? Why aren’t you down there with Ronald and the twins?”

Harry shrugged and sat on the closest bed to the window facing Draco, “not really – I don’t have very good memories of Christmas or any holiday.”

“Oh,” Draco didn’t think Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, didn’t have an exceptional childhood. Like Draco, he never talked about his muggle relatives and Draco didn’t want to pry, having a secret of his own. This was the most he’s ever talked about home and Draco felt compelled to share something, too.

“Um – I actually enjoy Christmas,” he admitted a bit reluctantly and didn’t notice he was already fidgeting with his hands. “It’s just…the first time I’m not spending it at…home.”

“Oh, it’s too bad your parents wouldn’t take you on their trip, I mean – Ron’s fine, I guess. He has his brothers here with him but you’re well…”

“Well, whatever Father wants, he gets,” Draco smiled bitterly. Then when the silence between them was too much to bear, he made another admission. “I think this is the best Christmas I’ve had though.”

Harry grinned, “that makes two of us now.”

“And it’s all thanks to those Weasleys,” Draco rolled his eyes and pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, “woe is me!”

“Oh stop it, I remember you back in the train and at Madam Malkins, you were a right prat then. You still are, but I’m probably just used to it by now.”

Draco grinned, “ _you’re_ the one who wanted to be friends with me.”

“Yeah right,” Harry snorted and shook his head, “remember the train? I’m pretty sure that was an offer for friendship, _you_ wanted to be friends with me.”

“Oh really? I don’t remember,” Draco smoothly lied through a cheeky grin.

He remembered that day, he sat with his friends in the train. Father told him to befriend Harry Potter, he would be useful to whatever plans Father had and it wasn’t the first time he asked Draco to build connections. But Harry didn’t accept his friendship and they fought in the train. Draco didn’t think he would ever befriend Harry Potter after that but through unbelievable circumstances he did and he briefly entertained the thought that if he told Father about his friendship with Harry, would he consider taking Draco back?

Draco knew the answer to that, though. Even at eleven, he knew Father very well. He was strict and with cold purpose. There was a time he admired him, wanted to be like him and gain his approval – he still did but he was also angry and betrayed. He didn’t know how to sort out his feelings for Father and he didn’t think he would be able to do so anytime soon (Professor McGonagall was a very good listener and had very good advice to give) so _for now_ , this was enough. He had to content himself with this even though it was painful. It would be the best he could get.

“You’re a prat.”

“It takes one to know one, Potty.”

* * *

“Wake up! Wake up!”  


Draco groaned as he pulled the blanket over his head and tried to tune out Ron’s excited squealing. It was Christmas morning and he felt far worse than he’d expected. He wasn’t at the Manor, there was no smell of hot chocolate and his parents weren’t talking to him.

“ _Draco_! _Harry_!” Ron whined, “ _come on_! Wake up! You’ve got presents!”

“Presents?” Draco whispered to himself and slowly came out of his pillow to find Ron in the most hideous maroon jumper and Harry getting up from his bed as well, his hair far worse than it usually was.

“I’ve got presents?” Harry asked with a surprise.

“Yeah! Of course you do – and you too, Draco.” Ron smiled at them.

“I – I do?” Draco’s voice faltered and he nearly choked. Did his parents really – may be just for Christmas but that was better than nothing. He would take what he could get –

“Looks like it’s turning out better, ain’t it?” Harry grinned at him and Draco couldn’t help but return it.

He pushed off the blankets and crawled to the end of his bed – and there, _there_ were presents. His eyes searched for the familiar wrapping Mother always used but didn’t find any. _Oh_. But then he rallied against himself and _may be_ Mother used different wrapping for once? That _had_ to be it.

Draco leaned over the end of his bed and took the closest gift he could reach. It was rectangular and covered in wrapping paper with snowmen that didn’t move. There was a card attached to it with his name written in Hermione’s familiar script. _Oh_. He didn’t think – he leaned over his bed and read the notes on his presents, recognizing the scrawls of his friends.

“You – you got me presents?” Draco whispered, touched and his eyes prickling. “But…I didn’t –” he _couldn’t_ get any of his friends presents, he didn’t have any money on him and he didn’t want to risk sending another letter to the Manor.

“It’s fine, mate – just go on and open them,” Ron insisted.

“I – I promise to get all of you something for next year,” he said without a thought before realising _what would happen to him next year_? Would he still return to Hogwarts? Where would he go? Could Professor McGonagall let him live in the school for the summer holidays?

“What did Hermione get you?” Harry asked from over his bed where he just finished opening Hermione’s present for him – a box of Chocolate Frogs.

Draco shuffled away his bleak thoughts and carefully unwrapped Hermione’s present which earned him an eye roll from both his friends. Hermione gave him a book but it was one he hadn’t read before nor had he ever heard of the author. The picture on the cover also wasn’t moving – it was a muggle book. He smiled.

“’Course she’d give you a book and you’d be happy about it,” Ron rolled his eyes.

“Unlike you, Weasley, I value the finer things in life,” he retorted smoothly. This was his first muggle book and four months ago, he wouldn’t be caught dead with one but he befriended Hermione and realised it wasn’t – that muggles weren’t all that bad.

“You’re a great prat, Malfoy.”

“With taste.”

Harry sniggered at the both of them and earned a pillow to the head from Ron for that. Draco set aside the book, intent to read it later once he’d finished going through all of his presents. He randomly picked one – his own box of Chocolate Frogs. This one was from Ron, who grinned smugly and made a comment about how Chocolate Frogs were always the best. Draco snorted but thanked him without actually saying those words exactly (he enjoyed how it always drove Ron mad).

There was an owl carving from Hagrid or what was supposed to look like an owl and it was clear Hagrid tried to make it look like the eagle owl his family owned. There was a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavoured Beans from the Weasley twins which Draco eyed suspiciously before carefully setting it down away from his Chocolate Frogs as if it would ruin the frogs – but with the twins, you could never be too sure. Surprisingly he got a present from Neville, a book about potions but he suspected Neville needed it more than he did. Still it was a kind gesture and only confirmed Draco’s suspicions that Neville knew about his circumstances. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the gift, he didn’t want anyone’s pity but he also appreciated that Neville actually got him something.

He was reaching the end of his admittedly small pile of gifts – he always had dozens of gifts before but after expecting nothing for today, he didn’t mind the quantity. And he realised while he stared at Hagrid’s owl carving, these gifts felt more personal than any of the ones he got before.

The last present was poorly wrapped in brown paper and held together by a thin string of rope. It came with a note written on torn paper where his name was hastily scrawled. He was starting to feel dejected and angry – angry for _hoping_ that his parents would actually send him something when Ron spoke up.

“Oh, that’s um – that’s from Mum,” Draco turned his head to Ron and saw him trying to give an assuring smile despite his obvious embarrassment.

Draco inhaled deeply, not expecting the emotion that overcame him at the mere mention of getting a present from this woman – a mother, Ron’s mother he’d never met or spoken to before.

“It’s a jumper,” Ron explained and shrugged trying to act nonchalant but Draco knew this meant something for him, too. “It’s not much but –”

Draco didn’t listen to him and carefully unwrapped the present, trying to keep his shaking hands still. He took out a fuzzy knit jumper, a bright shade of red with a large golden D in the middle. It was – he choked – Mrs Weasley _made_ it, she knitted it herself and even though they’d never met, she made time to make him something.

“She always makes us jumpers every year – it’s not really that great and she always forgets that I hate maroon –”

“Shut up, Weasley. Just – it’s…” Draco had to consciously stop himself from crying or sniffling. “I love it – it’s brilliant.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Weasley.” Draco answered, pleased that his voice was steady. Then he placed on the jumper and wore it with a wide grin.

He didn’t get anything from his parents. Not even a note to wish him a happy Christmas and it _hurt_ but it wasn’t bad – not anymore. Not with his own warm and fuzzy jumper from Mrs Weasley that felt like he was being hugged and cared for.


End file.
